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AHEARN DOES HIS BESTto repair the damage on cross, exploring with Mort Laggos all the possible ways that the murder weapon could have ended up in the hands of Jimmy’s shooter.
“Have there been times in your experience when either a bullet or a gun from another crime shows up in another case on which you’re working?” Ahearn asks.
“It’s never happened to me personally,” Laggos says. “But I’ve read about it happening.”
“And isn’t it possible, Chief, that after shooting Mitch and Kathy and Laurel Gates, the defendant didn’t dispose of the gun and instead gave it to a friend or associate?” Ahearn says.
“Objection,” I say. “Mr. Ahearn doesn’t know if Rob Jacobson disposed of the murder weapon because he can’t prove my client ever had it in the first place.”
“Sustained,” Judge Prentice says.
“Let me rephrase,” Ahearn says. “Isn’t it possible that the gun used on the Gates family and on Mr. Cunniff could have had several owners over the past year or so?”
I can see that my new best friend Chief Laggos isn’t buying it, but he at least tries to be a good soldier.
“I suppose that is possible, yes.”
When Ahearn is finished, I stand. “Redirect, Your Honor?”
Prentice waves me forward.
“I’d like a moment to respond to Mr. Ahearn’s fabulism,” I say.
“Objection,” Ahearn says in a blink. “And look who’s talking about fabulism.”
“Sustained.”
“Let me rephrase,” I say.
“I would,” Prentice says.
“Just for the sake of conversation, Chief, let’s say that it was Mr. Jacobson’s gun and he did give it to someone after that tragic night at the Gateses’ house. As a veteran policeman, does it makeanysense that this imaginary friend would think attempting to kill an essential member of the defense team trying to acquit him would somehow be helpful to Mr. Jacobson’s cause?”
“Objection,” Ahearn says. “Calls for speculation.”
Before Prentice can say anything, I say, “Withdrawn.”
I’ve brought back Marge Florio, my forensics expert from John Jay, and I tee her up after Laggos steps down. She explains about markings on bullets, and both the statistical and scientific improbability of Jimmy’s bullet being fired by any gun other than the murder weapon. It is tedious stuff, but I just want to lock in my alternate theory about another killer for the jury. A couple of weeks ago I made fun of Rob Jacobson for using the expression “real killer.” Now I just did everything except set it to music. Girl’s gotta do.
When court adjourns, and before the guards come to collect my client, Rob Jacobson asks who I plan to call to the stand tomorrow.
“To be determined,” I tell him.
“How close to the end are we?”
“Very.”
He starts to get up. I put a hand on his arm. It’s just the two of us left in the courtroom.
“Do you have someone new cleaning up messes for you the way Champi always did?”
He smiles. “I’m innocent.”
“So you swear to me that you didn’t send somebody after Jimmy after we came to the jail?”
“It’s like you yourself just said,” Jacobson says. “Why would I put out a hit on somebody I need to get me the hell out of this?”
Before I realize what he’s doing, he leans over and kisses me softly on the cheek.
